Cookie, Anyone?
by Miss Lorah
Summary: //Complete// Why are the students of Kinkan Academy selling low-quality cookies? To show how much they love thier beloved school? Of course not! Intense rivalries and randomness aplenty, all in the name of sweets! A teeny bit OOC :3
1. Surprise! Cookies!

**Welcome****! There isn't really much to say except that I don't own Princess Tutu, which sucks, and also there is slight OOC, but not too much that it makes all this really stupid... hpoefully. I do own Surprise!Cookies though xD**

**Reviews would be greatly appreciated of course, and feel free to let me know of any ideas or suggestions you might have.**

**Enjoy!**

**Cookie, Anyone?**

**Chapter One - 'Surprise! Cookies!'**

"… This is the slowest thirty seconds in the history of time, the world and everything."

The second hand on the large clock moved ever so slowly, and it seemed that as with each passing second, the interval between two seconds became increasingly larger. Fakir sighed loudly as he tapped his fingers against the floor in sync with the second hand. He, as well as an exceedingly large majority of the class, was determined to sprint out of the door as soon as the second hand reached the twelve. Sure there was virtually no time until the end of the lesson, but one of the worst ways to end a week was to watch Rue and the other stick thin, prissy snobs from the 'special' class flaunt their Pointe skills and make the rest of the class feel like complete and utter garbage. They were good, everyone got it, and quite frankly there was no need for them to perform so often; who knew what damage would be caused if their self-esteem levels got too high.

All of a sudden, the shrill sound of the bell filled the room, indicating that the class had finally ended, exactly two seconds after the oh-so-fantastic 'special' class were done with their confidence-crushing routine. As the rest of the class stretched their arms and remained silent, Fakir leapt out of his seated position, obviously ecstatic about the fact he could leave.

"Yes!" He triumphantly exclaimed, perhaps a little too loud. Determined to be out the door first, he began to sprint towards the exit, only to be stopped by the shrieks of a certain teacher. Gold stars for those who guess correctly.

"Fakir!" screeched Mr. Cat, causing everyone to immediately focus their attention on the two of them "Now, I know it's the weekend, but it's unacceptable that you show so much enthusiasm in leaving my class! I know you're a good student, but if you don't change your ways, I'm afraid I'm going to have to force you to MARRY ME!" The feline laughed maniacally while the wedding march began to play loudly in the background from an anonymous source.

The classroom instantaneously became quiet. This may have been due to the fact, that almost everyone got scared when Mr. Cat threatened marriage upon anyone, or that many lives of the female class members would have no purpose if their beloved Fakir was to be whisked away by their frightening teacher, and no longer availale for romantic pursuit.

"I…I … I'm male, Mr. Cat!" Fakir looked somewhat disgusted at the fact his teacher was so creepy enough as to consider that particular means of punishment, and possibly mistaken him for a girl.Thankfully, Mr. Cat was only known to use 'the marriage speech' as a means of threat, and never really when through with the process, probably due to the risk of being fired or arrested. However, just to be sure, Fakir continued to run out of the room, in an attempt to free himself from further embarrassment.

Soon after the large doors to the ballet studio had closed behind him, he ran in search of his belongings, and bolted out of the school. He didn't bother to say goodbye to his friends, or change his shoes, for that matter; it didn't seem to be all that important at the time. What did seem important was finally being rid of the ridiculous biscuit-y goods that prevented him from filling his numerous bags with anything of the slightest significance. He knew what he had to do; run madly around the town, annoying the living crap out of any passers-by until they surrender to him, sighing in defeat and saying "Fine, I'll take three boxes. Now, get out of my sight." If he could get through all of the streets first, pestering each and every person in town before anyone else, nobody would stand a chance in being the winner of the great cookie selling scheme.

Well, being the winner of this biscuit selling race didn't seem to mean much for Fakir; it was rather the …'punishment' for being last that irked him, as did it irk ninety-nine out of one hundred of the people he knew. Despite it being known amongst the students as a punishment, Mr. Cat happily referred to it as a prize. Surprisingly enough though, it was not marriage! Who would have thought?

_

* * *

__The previous Monday__…._

_All of the members of Kinkan Academy's ballet division were seated in the studio, whilst Mr. Cat licked himself, despite the fact he was supposed to be making some sort of long-awaited announcement. Surely it was going to be something about Rue, where everyone would have to clap and pretend to be happy, but in reality they would be cursing at her, and wishing she could stop being such an achievement hog._

_To most people's surprise, Rue had not done anything particularly in need of a huge announcement in the last week, and said proclamation was of a completely different subject._

"_The auditorium needs new curtains" … a rather anti-climatic start to the supposed talk that was supposed to have made each student's eyes light up with joy._

"_No it doesn't…" mumbled Pique. Unfortunately for her, everyone could hear her, and as the wedding march began to grow gradually louder in the background, she apologized profusely and the music ceased._

"_As I was saying" Mr. Cat spoke on, glaring at Pique "The auditorium needs new curtains. Now, someone tell me, how do we get new curtains... Rue?"_

_Trust Rue to be asked to answer the devastatingly obvious question. "With money?" she shyly mumbled._

"_Exactly right!" Mr. Cat cheesily grinned. If the two of them weren't in front of an audience, they probably would have hugged, burst into song and then did another self-esteem-melting Pointe dance._

_Fakir coughed hoarsely. Lillie sighed, and swooned. Pique slapped her in the arm, in an attempt to get her to stop making a scene. "The purpose of this is, happy get-together is, what exactly?" he looked at his watch, and for the second in this story, became increasingly annoyed at the speed in which time chose to move. _

"_Young people today, always in a rush. Okay, basically we're going to be selling '_Surprise! Cookies_' to the wonderful people of our town, in order to raise money for these desperately needed curtains. Also, for extra motivation, whoever raises the most money, will receive an automatic A on their solo performance exam."_

_There was a sudden eruption of cheering from the relatively small group of students._

"_However, whoever manages to raise the least amount of money, thus contributing next to nothing towards this wonderful education institute, will be forced to face the consequences!"_

_The previous cheerful atmosphere amongst the class instantaneously died, as everyone, especially the female students, grew extremely fearful._

"… _Does one of us have to marry you?" shyly asked Pique as she feebly raised her hand._

_Mr. Cat looked disgusted. "No! Honestly, do you think I live and breathe marriage! You ought to be ashamed of yourself, Miss Pique. Besides, marrying me ought to be a maginifent privelidge , not a punishment. As I was saying, the consequences for the person who fails in raising enough money will be forced to perform a duet dance with me to the popular 90's hit Barbie Girl!"_

* * *

Fakir shuddered as the thought entered his head. That was the reason why he was so determined to outsell everyone, especially Rue. Then again, she would probably enjoy every second of her bubblegum-pop dance with Mr. Cat. Sometimes he even thought that Rue would probably consider marrying the perverted feline for real. He chuckled to himself; that was something he would pay good money to see.

A smirk grew on Fakir's face. After a tiresome trek carrying some seventeen-or-so cases of immensely artificial _Surprise!Cookies_, he had finally come across a street filled with houses; houses which looked like they belonged to rich people, meaning surely the inhabitants of said houses would have plenty money to spend on worthless rubbish sweets. He hoped for the best as he walked up the steps leading to the large, ivory doors. He knocked three times and the door crept open.

"Wanna buy a cookie?"

**Voila! The first chapter! Gold stars for reviewers :3 I really hope you liked it!**


	2. Yes, 'Luck'

**I do not own Princess Tutu, sadly enough xD If I did, Mytho would be wearing pants way more often, believe me. Anyone else find that weird?!**

**Thanks for reading the first chapter. Hehe yes I know it is quite a bit OOC, but hey, it's a humour story, one that's not to be taken that seriously xD Besides, I still love all the characters whether they're in character or not, as long as their not completely butchered. Hopefully mine aren't? :3**

**Also thanks for the reviews, to be honest they made my day!**

**Basically to summarise this chapter, we find out how well our beloved characters have done in their sales over the weekend, with jokes thrown in too, obviously xD**

**And yes, italics are flashbacks :3**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter Two "Yes…**_** Luck**_**"**

It was a relatively warm day at Kinkan Academy; the sun was shining, not a cloud in the sky, and the way classical music seemed to play constantly from a mysterious unknown source gave the learning institute a particularly classy aura. Many students were frantically running around the campus, thrusting highlighter yellow boxes of _Surprise!Cookies_, into the faces of fellow pupils, only to sadly realize that they too, were in a desperate rush to offload their boxes containing a food that was, quite frankly, so artificial that it didn't really deserve the magnificent privilege of having an existence.

Most likely the only three students not engaging in the above mentioned activity were Ahiru, Mytho and Fakir, characters who you, the reader, should most definitely recognize to some degree. They were sitting by a large, stone fountain in a rather relaxed fashion; having a friendly conversation and observing the majority of the student population make idiots out of themselves. The occasional klutz tripped over, sending machine-manufactured icing and the like flying into the atmosphere, thus lowering the overall grade of the air. Although neither member of the trio were particularly enthusiastic about celebrating the misfortune of others, let's just say that each of them were happy that it was not them, flailing helplessly on the floor, with chemical-packed jelly filling ruining their flawless anime hair.

"Aww, poor girl!" Ahiru, the only girl of the group, sympathized with her fellow student who did in fact, have dark purple mush spread throughout her chestnut locks. Being a part of her generally friendly and compassionate nature, she stood up quickly and made her way over to the girl, who seemed to have difficulty gathering all of her belongings. However, before being able to make her originally-planned kind gesture, the over-dramatic Lillie, one of Ahiru's 'best friends' had grabbed a tight hold of her wrist and literally dragged her across the grass and back to the fountain. Lillie's sudden appearance and actions proved to be slightly confusing for Fakir and Mytho, who were getting slightly annoyed of the fact that she and her accomplice, Pique, seemed to be following Ahiru wherever she went.

Lillie pressed on Ahiru's shoulders as she physically forced her to sit down. Ahiru was quite annoyed by this action; she only wanted to help.

"Lillie…what are you doing?" Ahiru asked rather confused.

"Don't worry Ahiru! It's only for the greater good!" exclaimed the flamboyant blonde "I'll go over and help the poor child while you sit down and enjoy the romantic atmosphere! Farewell and good luck!" Lillie danced away, making way too many over-dramatic gestures and sighs. As Ahiru was slightly disgruntled at her friend's … 'performance', Fakir and Mytho were seemingly … gobsmacked. What was 'good luck' even supposed to mean? Good luck on their biscuit selling journey? Lillie must have had some devious scheme, in order for her to be so proud to be giving them luck of any kind.

"Umm … thanks, Lillie! Ahiru called after her friend rather softly with half a smile on her face. Poor, poor Ahiru hadn't been getting much luck recently. Of course she would call getting the opportunity to become human again a tremendous blessing upon herself, but nothing else had really reached that standard of 'amazingly wonderful'. Some of her recent misfortunes include getting a rather large ladder in her newest pair of ballet stockings, accidentally eating duck while out at a smorgasbord café and falling face-first into a puddle of sloppy mud in front of pretty much everyone, but most importantly Fakir, while wearing white, which overall is_ just fantastic_. However, being as optimistic as Ahiru is, she was sure that all of these things were going to turn out for the best, although she still felt pretty disgusting after eating that duck. Basically, she wasn't sure whether Lillie's initial statement of 'good luck' was genuine or teasing, therefore she was unsure of whether to be happy or offended.

"She meant good luck on the sales!" exclaimed a beaming Ahiru, although now, after a teeny bit more pondering, she knew exactly what Lillie meant, which so obviously had nothing to do with the aforementioned sales. "It's a good thing too, because I think I need it; I only managed to sell two boxes over the weekend, and they were both to Uzura."

* * *

"_Oh thank you so much, Uzura!" Ahiru picked up the puppet's tiny frame and squeezed it tightly. It was her first sale, meaning that she may indeed have a chance on that sweet A, or at least a chance to avoid performing that horrific routine. She put Uzura down and patted her on the head before handing her two fluorescent boxes of the doughy confection. _

"_That's okay! Ohhhh! Cookie lookie, zura!" Uzura lifted the lid in awe, and shoved a round biscuit in her mouth. She chewed on it happily for a while, before her white face turned a sickening shade of green and she spat it out. Ahiru didn't know necessarily whether the food was of that low a quality or if Uzura was merely being fussy. Still, she couldn't bring herself to actually try one._

_Meanwhile, Uzura was coughing and spluttering all over the floor, attempting to rid herself of whatever it was that was in her mouth. Ahiru was slightly nervous as to whether her friend would suddenly explode with infuriation, perhaps pinning her against a wall and questioning their friendship based solely on the fact that she had provided the unsuspecting Uzura with a possibly poisonous snack! In short, she felt bad, because she actually felt good about offloading something. _

_A nervous giggle managed to find its way out of Ahiru's mouth. Despite the fact she was genuinely sorry, more giggles and chuckles continued to sound. In addition, her face turned a bright shade of red, because of her embarrassment. It wasn't long until she had erupted into a nervous fit of laughter, in which Uzura was still trying to get the foul taste out of her mouth._

"_Ahahahaha! HAAAhahahaha!" Yes, she was quite nervous now. She stopped laughing for a few seconds, taking some time to breathe. She calmed herself down, and her voice was once again in a much more serious tone._

"_Don't even try giving them back." _

…_and with that, Ahiru ran._

* * *

"No matter what it takes, I am going to sell so much more this week!" She once again stood from her position, looking rather serious and determined. Ahiru seemed quite content with this goal; it seemed reasonably achievable also, especially since her aim was to sell more than two boxes. She sat down slowly, perhaps a little too involved with the petty cookie-selling competition.

"Way to go, Ahiru! I bet you'll be absolutely awesome" Fakir tried his best to give encouragement, also while saying his first piece of dialogue in the chapter, which is okay considering Mytho hadn't said anything. He smiled warmly at her, in a way that suggested some sort of feeling but also didn't make him look desperate. It was important that one got smiling down to a fine art.

"Aww thanks, Fakir!" said Ahiru, blushing slightly. "You're so nice!"

"Anytime"

"So how many boxes have you sold?" she asked inquisitively.

* * *

_The numerous teenage girls were squeezed inside the doorframe, waving around numerous bills of money and giggling quite loudly. The majority of them were wearing pyjamas, despite the fact that it would have had to be around six 'o'clock at the absolute latest._

"_How many boxes do you have left?" one girl happily asked, eyeing Fakir._

"_Uhh… I'll go check" he rummaged through his backpack, counting however many cookie-filled boxes he did indeed have. "…I have eleven." Something told him that these girls weren't that fussed about the amount of cookies he had._

"_Great! We'll take all of them! Thank you very much!" the girl threw a wad of money at Fakir "We'd _love_ for you to come back!" she snatched the remaining boxes and skipped down the hallway giggling away with her posse, another girl winking at him as she closed the door slowly._

* * *

"So… how many did you sell?" Ahiru seemed rather puzzled at the rather confused expression Fakir had maintained for the past thirty or so seconds. If only she could know what he was thinking … "Two? Five? Ten?"

"Uhh…" In reality he had sold all eighteen of the boxes within two nights, but he didn't really want to tell Ahiru, incase she were to feel bad. Now, he thought, what was a number that would make him look good, but not make Ahiru look bad?

"…five? Yes, five." That was reasonable, right? Judging by Ahiru's impressed, but not too impressed strange noise, he assumed it was, reasonable that is.

"What about you, Mytho?" Ahiru asked him, slightly worried about the fact that he hadn't been speaking or moving about at all for quite the while. The white-haired boy attempted to speak, yet no sound came out of his mouth. He tried this several times, but after each failed try, Mytho pouted miserably and slumped his back. Meanwhile, Ahiru was sitting with one eyebrow raised, trying to figure out what could have possibly happened to him. She shook him viciously, bashed his back in a couple of times, but still nothing.

"Oh, he can't talk" Fakir sighed "The all-powerful author has taken away his ability to speak until he wears pants on a regular basis. And, as a result, he hasn't been doing too well with the whole cookie thing".

* * *

_Mytho stood at the doorstep looking quite disgruntled._ _It was getting dark outside, and he had visited a large number of houses, yet he had not managed to sell even one of his unhealthy snacks. He was rather annoyed at the fact he couldn't speak, but decided to give the sales a go anyway, for he didn't know how long he would have to live without his voice. He looked rather desperate as he __forced __the bright yellow box into the face of the old lady he happened to be serving. _

"_I'm sorry, but I cannot understand you. I'm going to have to go now". She turned away slowly and pulled the front door shut, leaving teary-eyed Mytho once again, without a sale._

* * *

"Ahh, I see!" Ahiru understood now "Well it's good that someone's doing something about it, because it's actually really disturbing when he doesn't wear pants, which is sadly most of the time." Suddenly, she could feel as if someone was watching her from her left. She wasn't crazy in the slightest; this was merely Mytho showing how he could in fact still hear them and was rather offended by his friend's comments about his liking of not wearing pants.

However, luckily for Ahiru and Fakir in ways, the bell announcing the beginning of another class had rung some time ago, thus meaning that Mytho was unable to release a bout of silent wrath on the two of them. The three made their way back to the building in which their class was being held, each of them mentally composing excuses as to why they were late for class, and Mytho silently hoping that he could say his sooner rather than later…

**Thanks for reading again, and I hope you liked the second chapter of my story! :3**


	3. Countdown

**A/N: Hello again! Here is the hopefully much anticipated third chapter. I really hope you like it, mainly because I re-wrote it twice, solely because I wasn't happy with it xD**

**Thanks to everyone for reading, reviewing, alerting, ****favourite-ing**** and showing support so far :3 **

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter Three "Countdown" **

"We can do this! Run faster!" Ahiru yelled as she sprinted in the general direction of the ballet studio. Perhaps due to the carelessness of herself and her friends, she, Fakir and Mytho were now verging on becoming catastrophically late for class, although she may be exaggerating in the slightest bit. In actual fact, the bell had rang three minutes ago, and there were many students around her who were casually walking with their friends, chatting and laughing as they made their way to their next class. But Ahiru knew better than to be slow and late. It was only yesterday in which she was only a smidgen late for Mr. Cat's ballet lesson, where she tripped over an untied ribbon on her shoe while trying to sneak in quietly, and was literally sent flying through the room.

Let's just say she was extremely grateful that both the piano and her leg remained unbroken after that particular series of events. Now she knew that she had to get to the studio as fast as she could, so that if she_ were _to break something, she would be the first person in the class and no one would see her. When Mr. Cat would walk in infuriated, his forehead veins pulsating violently, Ahiru could simply smile and say "It was like that when I got here". To her, that sounded nice, but as every second passed, the chances of that happening got thinner and thinner, all because Fakir and Mytho would not run any faster!

Sure, Ahiru was their friend and all, but it was easy for the two guys to say that they did look rather stupid running at full speed across the grass. Mytho sighed as he looked around him, enviously watching all the other students walking off to class in a relaxed fashion. He was a little relieved that people weren't laughing at him and the girly way in which he ran, with his arms flailing about and whatnot. Why, he wondered, did the studio have to be at the furthest possible location from the spot where they hung out and ate lunch? Mytho questioned as to why they even ate there; it wasn't necessarily the cleanest place, and it was located at the edge of the school, meaning that they had to put up with the odours of the seafood store across the road.

Thankfully, it wasn't long until the three of them were done sprinting and were finally in front of the doors to the studio. Ahiru sounded a sigh of accomplishment as she pushed open the door, on time for once. She had never been the first one to class before. For Ahiru, it was wonderful knowing she wasn't late, and therefore there was no possible way for Mr. Cat to threaten exotic, illegal punishment upon her arrival.

Her hopes of being first were shattered when she realized that the rest of the class had in fact, arrived on time, with the majority of them sitting on the floor doing stretches. Ahiru caught the eye of Rue, who was stretching at the barre, in an unnaturally graceful and perfect manner, of course. She clumsily shuffled over to the brunette, to join her in stretching. A grumble of annoyance managed to find its way out of Ahiru's mouth upon realizing that she could not lift her leg as abnormally high as her. Rue didn't seem to take any notice in anything that happened outside of her own personal bubble of 'special' class perfection, so she continued to plie and stretch, now on Pointe. Ahiru was turning green with envy, metaphorically speaking.

Before Ahiru was able to explode with jealously, Mr. Cat confidently barged through the doors, albeit later than the entire class, to start the lesson. At the exact moment of his entrance, everyone, even Rue and her 'special' class posse ceased their activity to show him their attention, be it willingly or out of fear for their single marital status. Now was Ahiru's time to show that she was in fact at class on time; she couldn't wait to see her teacher's reaction.

"Okay, okay ... Everyone's here" Mr. Cat mumbled to himself, silently counting the number of students in the room "Ahiru will get here eventually…"he sighed.

Ahiru's mouth dropped open. Could he see her? Surely her traffic cone orange hair could render her somewhat distinguishable from the rest of her class! Perhaps Pique's purple locks were slightly bolder, but…! She couldn't believe this.

"I'm right here Mr. Cat!" She chirped happily waving her arms, despite the fact that her inner voice was fuming and screaming 'Acknowledge me! Damn it, ACKNOWLEDGE ME!" at the top her lungs.

"That's nice." To be perfectly honest, the feline was rather annoyed at the fact she was present; normally her constant lateness gave him the opportunity to threaten her with marriage and other unlawful and extravagant punishments. His bored facial expression changed instantaneously into a very excited one, complete with a cheesy grin with a hint of malicious intent. "Now before the 'special' class leaves us, I have an announcement to make".

Fakir groaned. Rue was such an achievement hog; he knew that, and preferred that it was not to be shoved in his face in every waking moment of his existence.

"Something you would like to share with us, Fakir?" Mr. Cat raised an eyebrow.

"No, Mr. Cat. I am sorry. Please, do go on." he droned half-sarcastically.

"Good!" the malicious intent in the teacher's smile had amplified for a short period of time; this was probably due to the fact that he couldn't threaten marriage on him, especially after last Friday's episode. Deciding to focus more on his announcement, he pulled out a remote control, the type with a large antenna and only one button, as seen in some cliché movies, and pressed …said button.

The previously regular ceiling began to shake and split in two, making way for the strange pink rectangular 'thing' to make its way into the student's view. Upon closer inspection, the object turned out to be a notice board of sorts. '_The Little Spanish Flea_' began to play at painfully loud volumes as the board came to a halt, conveniently next to Mr. Cat, who seemed rather smug when he looked at his beloved creation.

Well over half the class had their heads in their hands, trying to hide either laughter or sheer grief. It had been only a week since the cookie campaign had been initially established, and sure the teacher was quite enthusiastic about the fundraising idea, but making a results board lined in pink feathers and as tall as Rue standing on Mytho, standing on three crates, was somewhat strange.

"As everyone should know, we have reached the halfway point in our _Surprise!Cookies_ fundraising competition. This Friday marks the end of all of your snack-selling journeys and a winner will be announced and have a glorious 'A' bestowed upon them. On this wonderful board designed and constructed by _moi_, are the results of how everyone is going thus far." The feline then stepped aside in order to let the students get as big-headed or depressed as possible.

A mass hush amongst the students filled the room, as many of them anticipated whether their sales over the week had made a difference on the leader board. However, upon merely glancing upon the ridiculously tacky feline-made board, everyone knew that there was absolutely no way they were to claim the prize, because one student had sold so much food in one mere week; they may have even raised enough money to buy the curtains themselves!

_Mr. Cat's Surprise!Cookies Fundraising Extravaganza Leader Board_

_Rue 46_

_Fakir 30_

_Pique 17_

_Anteaterina 16_

The list continued on until Lillie's name at the bottom was seen with a big, fat zero next to it. Despite the fact that Lillie was her friend, Ahiru couldn't help but feel much better about her sale of two boxes, which placed her sixth from last or equal third from last, but placed higher due to alphabetical order. Mytho had managed to sell seven boxes of food before the unfortunate disappearance of his voice, which may decide to reappear soon, due to the fact that he had began to wear pants much more regularly and willingly.

Meanwhile, Fakir was seething. Even when he had a wealthy mob of sugar-induced, hyperactive fangirls on his side, he was still able to be surpassed by the all-perfect Rue once again, who had somehow managed to sell a ludicrous forty-six boxes of trash in a mere eight days. What did she even do, sell them all to her monstrous raven father and the equally malevolent and feathered members of his snobby Bridge club?

* * *

_Princess Kraehe stood in the dark abyss, where her evil father, the Raven and his equally evil bird friends sat strangely around a large, evil-looking table playing Bridge, the evil version._

"_Father! I request that you buy all twenty boxes of these horrib-, I mean delicious cookies I need to sell for school. Please?" she asked._

"_Okay". He handed over some money he just happened to have and put one of the cookies in his beak. The Raven chewed it slowly before swallowing and smirking. "I say, these are quite the delicious treat despite being born into a pitiful, cookie body"._

"_How strangely out of character for you, Father. But thank you! I'll go get you some more!" With that, Kraehe happily __chassed__ off into the darkness, in search of more doughy confections to feed her father and his minions._

* * *

After the class had finished, Fakir had decided that he was finally going to tell Rue what he thought of her; how she was extraordinarily irritating in the fact she can't help but be the best at absolutely everything. Sure, being the best dancer in the class and having natural talent is one thing, but beating Anteaterina in the 'How much can you look like an anteater?' contest is completely different. That was clearly an area in which someone with actual anteater-like features should excel.

As everyone cleared out of the studio, Fakir waited for Rue. So did Ahiru, to provide him with moral and emotional support, incase he were to say or do something stupid. Mytho however, decided it would be best to return to his dorm; when an argument happened to occur between one of his best friends and the girl he liked, he thought that he ought to remain outside of the verbal war zone.

Just Fakir's luck, Rue was the last person to exit the studio. By now, everyone was getting rather impatient, so Fakir just decided to cut to the chase and give Rue a piece of his mind in the way that was least rabid, and also used the least amount of time; even a simple 'achievement hog' remark, although perhaps overused in his mind, would be fine.

"Rue, I think that –"

"Hello, Ahiru" Rue took absolutely no notice of Fakir's 'confrontation' and for the first time today, took interest in Ahiru, despite the fact she had ignored her completely earlier that day.

"Uhh… Hi Rue!" Even though her reason for being at her current location was not necessarily to bask in Rue's grace and talent, Ahiru could not help but feel slightly shy when speaking with her. "Congratulations on winning the cookie race so far… even though I think you're going to get an 'A' anyway, for everything!"

"Oh, why thanks. That's so nice of you. I know I'll pass with flying colours. To be honest, I just want to win the 'A' so that …you don't." Rue giggled as she waved goodbye and danced away.

Ahiru looked on, completely and utterly shocked. "I can't believe Mytho actually likes her… Why would she want to do that?" she said softly, mainly to make sure that Rue didn't hear her.

"Don't worry about it. We'll show her; we still have until Friday" said Fakir reassuringly as he put his hand on Ahiru's shoulder. Ahiru was unsure; she was almost positive that Rue was going to come out on top as always, but nevertheless, she was willing to work ten times as hard to prove her wrong, and smell the sweet scent of success.

**A/N: Hehehehe… What ever will happen now? :3 Reviews would be appreciated. **

**Hope you're enjoying the story!**


	4. Those Poor Quails

**A/N ****Update, update, update! Yay! Thanks to everyone for the reviews and support so far! I apologize for the rather lengthy gap between updates; sadly it's not glorious summer everywhere xD Anyways, I don't mean to keep anyone waiting!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Princess Tutu or anything else that is recognizable in this chapter. Except Surprise!Cookies hehe…**

**Enjoy!**

**Chapter Four – Those Poor Quails **

Despite the fact that Ahiru was once filled with indescribable amounts of determination and joy, the rain, among other things, lowered the overall quality of her mood. Said rain was not just regular trickles of moisture; it was bucketing down water in a practically sideways fashion, which somehow managed to drench innocent passers by, even if they stood underneath an umbrella or sheltered area. The sheer velocity of the falling droplets caused Ahiru's hair to feebly surrender to gravity and stick to her face, which annoyed her quite a bit as it was extremely uncommon in the anime world. While wandering aimlessly, her hair soaking wet, she managed to sell three boxes of _Surprise!Cookies_ although she was verbally abused by an old, drunken man, and an animal rights protestor, claiming that the machine manufactured creations in fact had traces of an endangered species of quail.

Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open upon the mention of this possible fact; she didn't necessarily believe this hippie protester gallivanting around in the pouring rain, but she was quite happy that she hadn't put a cookie anywhere near her mouth. She couldn't imagine what on earth one of her feathery brethren would taste like; then she remembered the horrid duck-consuming incident, and felt nauseous for a moment.

Ahiru blinked slowly and then walked away cautiously from the animal rights activist, trying to avoid stepping in a puddle or on the foot of another drunken man. She sighed; only that afternoon it had been a beautiful day. The sun's warmth radiated onto the happy civilians laughing and chatting while sitting on the lush green grass, enjoying their day. It seemed that only just after she decided to try and succeed in the marketing scheme and Fakir reassured her that everything was going to turn out great, the previously blue sky quickly turned to a murky grey and the heavens opened.

Speaking of Fakir, he was supposed to be accompanying Ahiru on her journey out of cookie-selling amateurism. However, coincidentally not long after the sudden storm had began, his face went deathly pale as he muttered something about 'promise' and 'threat', before running off in a random direction. Taking note of the time, Ahiru noticed that Fakir had been gone for almost two hours, and considering how horrified he seemed before he left abruptly, he must have had something urgent to get to at home, or maybe back at school. She decided that it was probably time to call it a day; the sky was beginning to get dark, and the weather was cold and wet, not the ideal conditions for making sales.

So that was what she did, called it a day, and began her long walk home. Narrowly avoiding puddles of water and rather unpleasant puddles of mud, she was soon more than halfway through her treacherous quest battling against the wind, the rain and the sheer cold. As her walk progressed, it seemed harder to find her way through the grey fog that was seemingly getting thicker by the second. 'Surely I'm not going mad!' the thought over and over again to herself as she began to get herself lose herself in the mist. Ahiru rubbed her eyes in frustration; no matter how hard she tried, it was now virtually impossible to view anything in the distance. Luckily for her, she was almost where she needed to be, and the stupid fog was no match for her—

…"Ow." She muttered bitterly, as she crashed into … she hadn't quite figured that out yet. To be honest, it was quite hard to make out what sort of being this thing was, even if was alive at all. It was quite tall, thin, had a rather large head, and naturally a shocking sense of balance to be able to so carelessly walk into her like that. If this … thing knew how annoying and rough her afternoon had been , they would know damn well not to mess with an angry Ahiru with wet hair, or ever for that matter.

Her eyebrows furrowed and she let out a disgruntled moan as she realized that while she was out wandering aimlessly, battling against the elements, Fakir had ran off in a hurry .. to get a jacket, and umbrella and a thermos?! He had got to be kidding.

"… Want some? It's chicken noodle." Fakir feebly smiled, weakly bringing the thermos forward.

* * *

"What a lousy, pointless afternoon" Ahiru mumbled monotonously into her hands. She was now sitting in the school library, mainly because of its top-quality heating system, trying to make Fakir explain his random absence. Things didn't seem to be going particularly well, one of the signs being the lack of conversation in the room, and the abundance of pointless mumbles and sighs.

Mytho was sitting quietly nearby, rocking back and forth, completely fed up with the concept of silence. It was quite irritating when you knew exactly what had to be said, but lacked the ability to express yourself; he knew that too well. He had even since surrendered to the author's and reviewers will, now wearing pants just as often as a regular person. Stuck for options, Mytho spontaneously leapt out of his seat, took the nearest library book in sight, and began to write on the inside of a randomly selected page, before handing it to Ahiru.

"Halt!" seemingly from nowhere, the library Nazi Autor, his glasses glistening in the dim light bellowed from the top of a nearby staircase. "What sort of horrendous, blasphemic act do you think you're committing?!"

Mytho sighed. It was most likely that Autor was simply over-reacting. '_Honestly',_ he thought to himself, '_How many people would even consider reading… Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows?'_ Upon taking closer inspection at the hardback cover, Mytho realized just what he had done, and that if Autor spread the word around the world, millions of crazed fanatics of the series would hunt him down, come to his house in the middle of the night, and cut him.

Due to the unfortunate loss of his voice, Mytho was unable to respond to the library Nazi's yells, which had drawn the attention of every person in the building, all six of them. He thought quickly of a way to relieve himself of the total humiliation he was experiencing, and to perhaps avoid paying the thirty-odd dollars for the book. Due either to frustration or OOC-ness, he threw the insanely thick novel at Autor's head, resulting in a rather loud thud as his unconscious body fell to the floor.

Fakir and Ahiru remained quiet for the whole idea, honestly shocked at the fact that Mytho of all people would be the one to finally shut up the literature freak.

The author would like to make a brief statement by saying that it is indeed wrong to deface school property or throw things at people, and that having a passion for literature or wearing glasses does not make one a Nazi or a freak. Not all Harry Potter fans are rabid. Continue on.

Fakir looked at Mytho, then at Autor, then at Mytho, then at Ahiru again and finally at Mytho for a third time. "… Nice."

His face glowing red, Mytho power walked out of the building, with hopes that the previously mentioned series of events would never re-enter the minds of anyone ever again. We readers know better than that however, and may be replaying the exact moments of the throw in our heads for hours, maybe even days to come.

As the embarrassed mute attempted to discreetly remove himself from sight, Pique confidently strode into view. Being seconded in the cookie-selling competition only by Rue and Fakir, both of whom had ridiculous methods of selling and/or a vicious fan club of sorts, the magenta-haired girl had quite the reason to feel relatively triumphant. She debated whether to sit herself down at the seat recently left vacant by Mytho, but upon seeing Autor lying unconscious only about a meter near the table, she decided that perhaps it wasn't best to stay in the library for long.

After briefly glancing at her fellow student lying motionless, she glared at Fakir with a raised eyebrow.

"Fakir, what did you do?!" she questioned perhaps a little too loud considering where they were.

Fakir looked quite shocked. "Why do people always think _I_ do these things?" he sighed.

"Remember that time you pushed Mytho out of the window?" she stated in an intelligent manner.

"This was settled ages ago" he huffed "He_ just_ fell. It was a complete misunderstanding"

"Ya-huh" Pique was honestly uninterested in the matter, so she turned to her dear friend Ahiru for some more meaningful conversation "Ahiru! Wonderful, awesome, doesn't-speak-all-lies Ahiru! Did you do anything exciting last night?" her attention was fully drawn to Ahiru now, and her mood had definitely changed for the better since she was accusing Fakir of attempted murder approximately a minute ago.

"Um, not really" she answered quietly "I tried to sell some cookies, and then it rained, and then Fakir disappeared, and then some people yelled at me, and then Fakir came back, and _then_ I had some soup, and _then_ I did homework, and _then_—"

"Oh, you poor thing!" Pique now had her arms wrapped tightly around the head of said 'poor thing', while Fakir watched on with an animated sweat drop sliding down the side of his forehead. "You're sentence structure skills are appalling. Oh and speaking of cookies, do you have any? I'm just starving!"

"I—"

"Here." Fakir interrupted Ahiru unknowingly as he reached into a random black hole of sorts to grab hold of a brightly coloured box that was never previously mentioned. He then held out his hand as Pique gave him a number of small coins, and it wasn't long until she was happily skipping out of the building, munching on the mysterious doughy confection.

"Wait!" Ahiru yelled from across the room, yet not necessarily noticed by Pique "I wouldn't be eating those! They … have … quail … in them" However, by the time Ahiru had finished her sentence, her friend had already left eyesight and could have well consumed a good few cookies in that time, depending on her hunger levels. She sighed as the thought of the little birds that could have potentially been killed to form the purple jelly substance in everyone's sweets. She then took a moment to think to herself, coming to the conclusion that that protestor may not have known exactly what they were talking about, and for the quail's sake, prayed that that was the case.

"Quail?" Fakir tapped Ahiru on the shoulder as she stared blankly into the distance, thinking about birds. Technically, she was born a duck, so these subjects caused her to delve into deep thought. "What are you _talking_ about?"

"Wah!" Ahiru quickly caught up with reality and turned around. "Well you wouldn't know, because you weren't there, were you!"

Fakir groaned in defeat as Ahiru began to flatten out the piece of paper Mytho had handed to her.

"Let's see why, shall we?"

**A/N ****Thanks for reading! Hope you liked it! Reviews would be greatly appreciated :3**


	5. Knock Knock

**A/N: I apologize profusely for the ridiculously late update! I also rewrote this chapter xD Thank you again to everyone who sent a review! They really do brighten up my day!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Princess Tutu. I never have, and sadly, I never will.**

**Chapter Five – Knock Knock **

"Knock knock!"

Ahiru sighed. She had heard approximately seven 'jokes' of this renowned style too many. "Who's there?" she muttered monotonously.

"Mytho's voice! Mytho was ecstatically parading his finally regained sense of speech. But unfortunately for Ahiru and Fakir, they had begun to get used to, and enjoy the peaceful silence their friend brought to the group. For example, in a regular school fire drill, real or not real, Mytho would succumb to acute paranoia and result to wailing in fear, throwing his arms about in random directions. However in the previous fire drill that took place the previous morning, Tuesday, due to the fact Mytho was still silent during that time, there was no sound; just the rather hilarious image of something similar to a fearful primate with no accompanying yells of rage.

In a way that deemed both fortunate and unfortunate for Mytho, it was not long after the aforementioned fire drill that his vocal chords made their long-overdue return. The precise moment was in Mr. Cat's ballet lesson, where most focal plot points are indeed set, when the teacher demanded that the white-haired student tell him the English meaning of 'port de bras'.

* * *

_Yesterday (Tuesday) Afternoon – Kinkan Academy Ballet Studio_

"_Mi.. Mister Cat, I don't think screaming at him is going to make him say anything. He has no voice, and no one really knows when it's going to come back" Fakir tried to reason with the enraged feline, who seemed determined more at that moment than ever to get answers out of his petrified pupils "He's even been wearing pants … all the time, despite his obvious vendetta against any form of leg-wear"_

_Mr. Cat wasn't sure what Fakir said was true "Really? All the time? _All_ of it?" he asked, the malice in his voice temporarily vanishing._

"_Yeah. Weird, huh?"_

_The teacher nodded in agreement, before his mood switched from dazed and became infuriated once again. "If you want all of your limbs intact, and you want to remain a single man" Mr. Cat had, since last weeks 'incident' began threatening holy matrimony on any person, let alone female student, who had difficulties catering to his obscure needs " you __will __tell me the English translation for 'port de bras', even if it means impaling yourself with a spatula and spelling it out on the floor in your own blood!"_

_There was an immediate hush amongst the class. Mr. Cat had never used three threats in the one sentence; perhaps he was turned down a raise by the principal, or a marriage proposal by a twelve-year-old girl._

_Mytho's desperation to answer verbally was evident in the frightened look in his eyes, and the beads of sweat trickling down his forehead. He, and everyone else in the room knew that if there was one urgent moment for his voice to come back, it would have to be then._

"_Ca.. ca.. Carriage of the arms?" he whimpered, then gasped in shock. It seemed that at that precise moment, a beam of golden light shone though one of the studio's windows, positioning itself so perfectly as to make Mytho's face glow. He dramatically fell to the floor in amazement, before erupting into maniacal laughter. At this time, many members of the class were questioning his mental stability._

_However, it didn't seem that he cared in the slightest; he had his voice back, and the English translation for 'port de bras' was in fact ' carriage of the arms', so his life and marital status were safe for another day._

* * *

It was also apparent that having speech ability enabled Mytho to rip through the leadership board, figuratively of course, selling at least a good twenty-five boxes of cookies that day. Most of these sales were to swooning pre-pubescent girls willing to buy food in exchange of hearing him speak, for supposedly they were having trouble living without having their daily dose of overhearing his conversations. On the tacky flamingo-pink board that stood proudly in the ballet studio, Mytho's name skyrocketed that day from near last to fourth, under Rue, Fakir and Ahiru. By Wednesday morning, positions stood as follows:

_Mr. Cat's Surprise!Cookies Fundraising Extravaganza Leader Board_

_Rue 67_

_Fakir 59_

_Ahiru 35_

_Mytho 33_

One would think that with the top four students selling impossibly huge amounts of cookies, feelings such as happiness would often be Mr. Cat's emotion of choice, yet it seemed that the over-achievement of Rue made him angrier. According to him, it seemed that the rest of the class saw the confectionary-selling campaign as a mere joke, and that they weren't trying anywhere near as hard as Rue, who was an absolute angel in his eyes.

Another think that seemed to irk the teacher was the unexpected success of Ahiru. Due to the fact she was incredibly, almost unnaturally clumsy, and had tendencies to … not succeed in most things, he began to prophesize the end of the world and other radical theories. 'The day Ahiru can dance on Pointe, the world will end', 'The day Ahiru wins a competition, the penguin-man playing the piano is going to turn rabid and eat us all…". Yes, Mr. Cat had severe difficulty believing that his clumsiest student was doing well in the marketing world. He pondered, 'how the people of Kinkan were able to consume so many most likely intensely sugary and very un-nutritious confections, yet remain so healthy and thin?'

Returning to the previous subject, Ahiru had, just like Mytho, also leapt up numerous places in terms of sales all in the one day. This started on one faithful Monday, when she was trying to reason with Fakir as to why he disappeared in the middle of a serious cookie selling block. When it came to explanation and reasoning in the school library, it was Mytho who provided her with a scribbly note, explaining his side of the story.

* * *

_Monday afternoon – Kinkan Academy Library_

_Fakir watched on as Ahiru slowly flattened the piece of paper onto the desk. As she read each new word, her eyebrows seemed to raise higher, a grin on her face refusing to stay hidden. A muffled laughed managed to sneak its way out from her closed mouth._

'Fakir … smothered… rabid… fangirls .. They'll kill him with twisted love. It's horrible.' _Mytho's writing, although rushed, was impeccably neat. _

_Ahiru's mood returned to serious as she slowly moved the page aside, glancing at Fakir in a slightly sour fashion. "Look, I know Mytho doesn't lie often, and a lot of girls like you, but this has just _got _…to be bull."_

* * *

It was a good thing that Mytho's voice had made it's very public return on the day the three had decided to visit said 'rabid fangirls'. Due to the Fakir's inability to remember an exact address, the only way to find the habitat of the overly-obsessive species was to walk up and down every single street of the town, Fakir and Ahiru dragging trolleys filled with fluorescent yellow boxes, before it was decided that any house was _the _house.

"Is that it?" Ahiru asked, pointing to a prestigious cream brick house, standing proudly on the street corner.

"Nope" Fakir answered almost immediately.

"What about this one?" questioned Mytho, gesturing to a run-down shack hinged between two majestically tall trees.

"Nope" Fakir replied, identical to his previous response.

"So… rabid fangirls, huh?" Ahiru didn't know what to think of the subject.

"They're just so .. _strange._" Mytho then shuddered "It's like they gain their daily nutrients just from _looking_ at people, but they have to be certain types of people, apparently."

"Riiight" Ahiru sarcastically nodded. It was most likely that these people were made up. She wondered where she was being taken; was it her birthday? She didn't seem to pay attention to those minor details.

It seemed to take hours, although in reality it was approximately fifteen minutes, until the trio had come across _the _house. It gave the impression of belonging to a very wealthy family; it was very tall, very wide, and had a yellow Porsche convertible parked in the unnecessarily long driveway. Why someone made of money would decide to settle in a tiny town like Kinkan, nobody knew.

"Stop, guys. We're here"

"What? Here?!" Ahiru seemed surprised. Did rabid fangirls get paid a lot?

"Yep, here" Fakir responded reassuringly. The group then proceeded to trek across the immensely long driveway, making sure not to cause any damage to the expensive car whatsoever. As Fakir casually walked up to the towering front doors, Mytho and Ahiru remained standing on the driveway, Ahiru completely and utterly bedazzled by her surroundings. After all, she was still, a duck, and there were many things she had yet to see, such as a baby horse being delivered, and a vertically challenged man swallow a sword _without_ grim and/or gory complications.

Shortly after Fakir pressed the doorbell, he groaned, obviously unenthusiastic about the coming events. He glared at a nearby window as he caught a glimpse of a petite blonde girl, one who he was sadly rather familiar with, before she quickly disappeared, giggling uncontrollably. He spun rapidly so he was facing Ahiru and pointed accusingly to the window.

"Did you see that?!" he exclaimed, jumping up and down "Do you believe me now?"

Ahiru's facial expression, if one could see it, would be identified as a mixture of confusion and humour. She had absolutely no idea what her friend was going on about, but seeing him jump up and down in hysterics was quite a funny sight. "I'm sorry, what?"

Fakir pushed his palm to his face and sighed.

"Quick! It's the cookie guy! _The _cookie guy_!_" Although most expensive houses would be thought to have their doors comprised of a better, more soundproof material, the shrill cries had no difficulty passing straight through the thin wooden barrier that was, most likely resulting in being audible in at least a three mile radius.

It was merely seconds after the almighty screech that the horde of girls had arrived at the door and answered it.

"Cookie guy!" the previously mentioned petite blonde cheered. She took a few steps backward, before running through the hallway towards the door, then leaping into the air and falling into an awkward hug. The hug was not so awkward for the girl, but it was evident in Fakir's facial expression that if he weren't trying to keep up his 'big-brave-manly-man-knight' reputation, he would have cried; it was that awkward.

"Yeah, hi. Please don't touch me." He muttered, and the girl slowly backed away, not wanting to make 'cookie guy' angry, and therefore disappear.

"How many boxes of cookies do you have today?" Her high-pitched voice rang. She eyed Ahiru's trolley stood out on the driveway, and then the trolley he was holding onto. "You brought two! Two whole trolleys just for us! You're so sweet; sweeter than the cookies!"

Fakir groaned again, turning to Mytho slowly and silently mouthing the words '_Make it stop'._ His eyes were then again fixed on the beaming girl and he put on a fake smile and a sugary tone in his voice "Of course! They're all just for you, if you pay for them that is."

"Okay!"

"Hey Ahiru! How many have you got in that trolley?" He yelled to Ahiru across the massively long driveway.

"Uhh… eighteen. Why?" she asked.

"Just wondering" Fakir turned away from Ahiru to the blonde girl again, doing some quick addition on his fingers. The fake smile and voice reappeared as he spoke "So, if you want all of them, which I think you do, that means you want to buy thirty-four boxes."

"Okay!" she squealed and rushed out of sight, either to retrieve the necessary money, or fetch a few tissues to wipe the tears of joy from her red, swollen eyes.

A few seconds passed, and the girl returned with both a large collection of money, and eyes that were noticeably less red. It was most likely that she had indeed collected some tissues or another wiping implement while on the way to retrieve the cash.

"Here you go!" she giggled as she handed over the money, most likely hoping for some incredibly brief hand to hand physical contact. "Will you promise to come back?" she whined as she put on 'puppy-eyes', a facial expression well known amongst many.

"Well, I…" From the reader's perspective, it was quite obvious that he most definitely did not want to come back. Being scared out of his mind by a group of hyperactive teens he barely even knew, leaping onto him from random directions, with everything they spoke ending with an exclamation mark, was not exactly his idea of a wonderful experience. However, regardless of the awkward factor, he knew that this mob of pep-pill overdosing giggle-machines were his best buyers; his only chance at beating Rue. The shocked look on her face when he would emerge victorious, was what kept him going. Selling the most crud-tastic cookies would mean he would be taken seriously.

".. Of course I'll come back! Why ever would you think otherwise?" Back on the driveway, Ahiru had a hard time holding back the laughter that Fakir's obviously fake voice brought.

"Yay!" cheered the blonde girl and all of her pepped-up friends. "Bye!" she then closed the door, and Fakir exhaled slowly and deeply. He turned around and dragged himself down the driveway, looking rather annoyed and relieved after meeting his friends.

"Ahiru" he handed her a large portion of the cash he had been given "I'm sorry for selling all your stuff without proper permission" he said smiling sheepishly.

"Oh!" Ahiru had only just noticed that the previously filled trolley next her was now completely empty. "I suppose that's okay"

"Good. Now," stated Fakir as he began walking in the direction towards the school "we might as well go back. I need to bathe; I feel so ... unsanitary. I can't believe she touched me."

And so, that was how our beloved characters grew closer to success, although not quite in front of Rue, but well on their way. There were only two more days, Thursday and Friday, before the winner of the coveted A would be announced. Despite Fakir's negative thoughts on the fangirl matter, Mytho and Ahiru knew they had a strong source of sale, and the three of them were in with a chance.

**A/N: Hehe yes, this chapter was quite a bit longer than the others; perhaps to compensate for the**** late update. Thank you very much for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! :3**


	6. Plan

**A/N: I apologize tremendously for the massive time between updates. I'm nearing the end of the story now, and I really don't want to mess up the ending. I also had huge writers block as to how I wanted the ending to go. Hehe, no it's not done yet. This chapter is more of a filler, giving hints as to what's to come.**

**Also, in a couple of weeks, my school year is over and I have a nice big holiday break to write. Actually, I should be revising for my exams now xD**

**Happy reading! I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting so long! **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Princess Tutu or anything remotely recognizable in this fanfiction.**

* * *

**~ Chapter Six - Plan ~  
**

"_To think I would be so stupid as to even consider being able to be better at anything than Rue" Fakir monotonously droned._

"_Don't be so hard on yourself" said his stepfather reassuringly "You still have that plan, of selling yourself physically to hyperactive pipsqueaks with no ambitions in life and nothing better to do!"_

"_It didn't work" he sighed, his defeatist attitude evident as he exhaled._

"_You mean it's over?"_

"_Yes" Fakir sighed "She kicked my ass and face real hard, and it hurt …a lot. Even more so, Rue managed to devise a scheme resulting in the every single member of the student body selling over eighty boxes of cookies each in one mere day. Therefore, this makes me the unfortunate person having to embarrass myself by performing a horrendous dance routine to an outdated song with the teacher who thought I was female only a week ago."_

"_Well, you can't blame Rue for being perfect; it's just her nature to be that way"_

_Fakir groaned in defeat "I know. You're right. I shouldn't be angry at all. I need to be happy for Rue, and hope that her unnaturally high amounts of grace, talent and intelligence help her to make something of herself in the future. Oh, how I wish I was just as perfect as her."_

"_I too often envy her aura in general and wish she were my adopted child instead of you. Rue is perfect … "_

_Rue is perfect …_

________________________________________________________

Rue stretched her arms above her head as she sat up in her bed for the first time that morning. She rose with a particularly pleasant facial expression, which quickly drooped as she came to realize that her apparently extremely wonderful dream was in fact not true at all. The calendar conveniently placed on the wall to her left enabled her to notice it wasThursday, the second-to-last day of the sales rally. She also came to realize that Fakir was not eighty boxes behind every single student and standing at a secure last, but was more rather edging ever closer to her coveted first position, along with Mytho and Ahiru, who were becoming more serious contenders by the hour.

With her school uniform flawlessly draped on, she stepped out onto the campus lawns, casting her gaze at random aspects of her surroundings. She aimed to focus the majority of her attention on her potential 'threats'. She would then absorb any skills they happened to show, so that she could copy them for her own personal use, and finally amplify them to such a degree that they would become astoundingly wonderful, resulting in immediate attention being drawn to her from at least a good twenty meter radius.

"It's like a _Pas de Deux_ in my mouth, and two cookies are invited!" Pique, confident and flamboyant as ever was standing on top of a wooden bench, yelling other nonsense remarks regarding the general taste and consistency of the _Surprise!Cookies_ she and the rest of the student body were selling. However, there was a slight possibility that her remarks were indeed, not purely nonsense, as she so far was the only person to admit actually eating the confection, let alone liking it.

"Woah, Pique…" a random male student within view stated, "You know those have quail in them, right?"

"Ha! You know that's all gibberish, right?" Pique laughed heartily as she shoved another biscuit down her throat. Meanwhile, students around her stood with their mouths gaping, as they considered the existence of bird-like bi-products residing in said biscuits. Obviously, Rue's intensely high degree of poise and grace prevented her from acquiring such an embarrassing, obscure stature. She huffed at the apparently blatant stupidity of those around her, before making her way back to her dormitory, where she was free of such behaviour.

It wasn't long before Rue returned to the sanctuary she called her room. She flopped onto her mattress after sighing in defeat; her 'spy mission' had failed, as it turned out that neither Fakir, Ahiru nor Mytho were outside at that point in time. She thought to herself, frustrated. What could they possibly be doing?"

________________________________________________________

_Scenario One_

_Ahiru sighed in defeat, lowering her head; she knew she had lost. What was the point of even going on, when she knew of her fate? She thought of what her friends would think, who were sitting next to her, in a circular formation. Would they laugh at her? Would they tease her? Ahiru knew that whatever the consequences were, she had to accept defeat. She placed her cards face-up in front of her and exhaled._

"_I fold."_

_Scenario Two_

"_Damn it!" Fakir growled as he marched up to the dartboard, yanking out a red dart level with his eyes._

"_What?" asked Mytho, scratching his head. "You hit the board. I thought it was a good shot."_

"_Yeah but" he sighed "… an inch higher and I would have got her right between the eyes" He stepped back and looked at the life-sized Rue dartboard positioned on the wall, admiring the various punctures in her cardboard silhouette._

________________________________________________________

Rue hoped, for her own sake and the sake of the school property doors, that something more along the lines of scenario one were happening as she thought. An extra bonus to the truth of that thought meant that obviously there was no productivity within their group. The thought of their complete and utter laziness made Rue feel much better about the general situation, which was, until she realized the immense amount of time she had wasted daydreaming about what could have been. Slightly more determined than previously, she emerged from her relaxed position, brushed her hair before marching triumphantly out of her dormitory. She knew exactly what she was going to do next.

"Lillie?" she squinted as she asked nervously, pushing aside various plants in order to see.

"Yes?" Lillie's blonde pigtails and unnecessarily large binoculars made her visible in the thick green bushes in which she chose to locate herself and spy on those around her.

Rue sighed. She had no idea why she had sunk this low; Lillie was in the _beginner's _class, after all. "I was wondering if you could do a little specialized spy work for me… WAIT!" Luckily for her, an idea suddenly found its way into Rue's head, through the seven coats of hairspray on her picture perfect 'do.

Performing an action that was rather unlikely for her, she dashed out of the bushes and onto the wide, stone footpath, determined more than ever to chase a tall tanned girl who she recognized as being part of the drama department. The particular individual was cast as the female lead in the school's most recent production, and was known by many not to be a complete 'free spirit' when it came to general personality. Before dance, Rue was a gifted painter, but was angered into giving up the hobby, solely due to the intolerance of her overly relaxed colleagues. Back onto topic, Ayano Mizushima was tall, she was tanned, she had dark green eyes, and she was exceptionally good at voice manipulation.

Rue finally caught up to the girl, of course without any hints of tiredness or perspiration. She stood in front of her, making herself appear much more noticeable, and stopped the dazed drama student in her tracks.

"If you want me to do all of your homework done for a week, you'll help me with my little problem"

* * *

**A/N Are you thinking what I'm thinking? As well as review? Hehe. Feel free to let me know about how you think the story is going, and what would make a really awesome ending xD There's probably only a couple of chapters left now. I won't take as long to update next time!**


	7. Selective Hearing

**A/N: I have finally updated at last! I apologize to everyone for taking so long, although it seems I take long all the time xD I would just prefer myself to be faster! **

**Thanks to all my previous reviewers too! You're all awesome.**

**Enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I do not own Princess Tutu or anything remotely recognisable in this fanfiction.**

**~ Chapter Seven - Selective Hearing ~**

Thursday afternoon came quickly, and it seemed like the school day lasted only mere moments. Rue thought deeper about how the previous week or so had gone rather fast. It was as if an entire day of her life could be recited only to be two pages long, give or take a few paragraphs, of course. She maintained a tight grip on the shoulders of her newfound sales partner, Ayano Mizushima, who was looking rather unenthusiastic about the current ordeal. Donned in a recently ironed male school uniform, Ayano shielded her eyes on account of two factors - the first was that she was venturing in public, quite simply, cross-dressing for an unapparent reason. The second was that she was also physically forced to wear a brown paper bag over her head, in order to hide the fact that she was herself, and not Fakir.

For those who have perhaps forgotten, Mizushima was a student more known for her achievements in the drama faculty of the school. Her tanned skin and forest green eyes, in addition to her rather thin figure, inspired Rue's devious disguising plan. Although she was so obviously not interested in being in her current position, she was threatened by Rue to find and wear a male uniform and accompany her through the streets of Kinkan that afternoon.

"Can I go now?" Ayano mumbled, sounding as if she were in pain. Although she was speaking to herself at a volume that would be in no way described as loud, Rue who was still holding on to her shoulders for grim death had no trouble hearing her complaints and reacted accordingly.

Rue huffed angrily. She no longer bothered with words. She had explained her scheme repeatedly, using oodles upon oodles of varying synonyms, as well as reordering the words in her sentences, yet for some strange reason, her prop had some strange difficulty in understanding that she was not going anywhere. She also disliked revealing too much of her plots to civilians, incase of the rarity that a bystander may be in disguise, and is actually Lillie, having a spy binge.

"So. Rue." Ayano sighed.

"_Lady _Rue"

"Yes" Mizushima rolled her eyes "Lady Rue. I apologize, your majesty. Now… may I ask your greatness a question?" Even though this may be stating the obvious, the previous dialogue was definitely in a sarcastic manner, although Rue may not have necessarily known that.

Rue huffed yet again, too preoccupied with observing her surroundings and daydreaming to take much notice of any previous sentences. It was quite obvious that her question was going to involve a phrase such as 'can I go home now?', 'why am I here?' and the most likely 'can I _please_ take this hideous bag off my head?', so there really was no point listening to her whiny drabble anymore.

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"… _and the winner of the Surprise!Cookies sales rally is, none other than.. Rue!" Mr. Cat was beaming as he pointed to her name placed securely at the top of his tacky pink list. Sure, it was written in laminated wrapping paper and the board's blue feathery frame was beginning to peel off at points, but this win held much sentimental value._

_Rue feigned surprise to the best of her ability and stood up, wiping imaginary tears from her eyes. "Surely, you don't mean me!" she grinned excitedly as she waved like the queen to the other members of her class, laughing also quite regally._

"_You've won another competition yet again, Rue!" Mr. Cat was so obviously proud of her, totally ignoring the rest of his class and the fact he was responsible for educating them. "That's just amazing!"_

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"…_and the winner for the Nobel Prize… in ballet dancing, is Rue!"_

"_Surely, you don't mean me!" She stood up from her seat and twirled down the aisle before walking gracefully up to the stage on which she would be presented her award._

"_Yes I do, in recognition of your excellent skill. That's just amazing!"_

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"That's _just_ amazing" Ayano sighed as her gazed moved from the setting sun to her wristwatch, wondering how much longer she would have to put up with Rue's selective hearing. "Earth to R-… Lady Rue?"

"Sorry, I'm amazing at what?" Rue regained her hearing as she detected faint signs of compliment, which turned out to be false.

"Never mind…" There was no point explaining Rue's rather annoying aural condition. It was probable that doing so would result in a spontaneous over-the-top fight to the death, or ballet dance off. "Anyways, important question. When we get to said house of rabid fangirly victory money, how am I supposed to act…?"

Rue finally let go of her, turned to face the bag on Ayano's head and stared. "Excuse me?"

"You know, personality wise, how do I act? Prince type, cool type, little devil type, loli-shota type, wild type, natural type…"

"I thought you knew!" Rue was near shouting, despite the fact she was in the clear view of numerous townspeople as she was located in a busy street.

"I thought _you _knew!" Through the eyes of the observing townspeople, there was quite a scene taking place. An unnecessarily loud argument was occurring between two local students, one for some reason with a brown paper bag over their head. At the moment, they appeared to be shouting ' I thought you knew ' over and over again, playing emphasis on a different each time. A lover's spat perhaps? That's what a few spectators thought.

Two or three minutes passed and there was virtually no evidence of an argument, most likely meaning that the sudden eruption of emotion was due to the unfortunate combination of two teenage girl's raging hormones. Rue and Ayano were now briskly walking side by side, quietly discussing Fakir's personality traits and what little knowledge they had of them.

"Well, I don't really talk to him that much," Rue suddenly took pride in knowing Fakir, despite the fact that she despised every fibre of his being on most other occasions. " but I know you're going to have to deepen your voice quite a bit."

"Okay" Ayano cleared her throat "Like this?" In hearing her speak, it was easy to tell she was straining her throat, and also that her vocal impression was as far off as you could get, sounding more like, well, anyone that wasn't Fakir.

"No, that was horrible."

"Thanks for the honesty" Ayano muttered sarcastically "I usually act out female characters, so..."

"Well that makes sense, considering. Oh, another house. Get in there." Rue power walked onto the front porch, rang the doorbell and waiting, tapping her foot impatiently.

"Who is it?!" A sudden shriek pierced through the brick walls and apparently hollow door, into the ears of the two unprepared girls, who immediately succumbed to their reflexes, covering their valuable ears and scowling.

"COOKIES!" Rue made a personal effort to scream twice as loud as the irritating girl inside the house, due to her exceedingly competitive attitude of course. There was no further yelling; Rue felt satisfied, she had won. Then it hit her. Was that _the_ freaky rich fangirl just then? What if she scared her off? Would that be the end of her reign as a serious contender? Thought after thought began to swirl around in Rue's conscious, causing her to become increasingly pessimistic. And then-

"HI! Oh my gosh, what's wrong with your face?!" It took a while to realize that someone was at the door. Even though the door was opened, she had to lower her gaze to notice the small blonde girl looking up affectionately at Ayano's bag head, and the four others beaming behind her. Said bag-clad student glared at Rue, seeking some advice as to how to avoid the rather awkward situation.

Ayano figured the only thing she could do was improvise. Considering Fakir had a large pre-teen fanbase, he would probably have to have some sort of Disney star sugariness in his personality, whether that was in general or just for the fans. All she had to do was act High School Musical, sell the cookies and she considered herself safe. "I was in a very noble protest march supporting… women's rights, animal testing and peace and love in general, and well, some really horrible, immoral guys started attacking us."

The young girl seemed to be swooning. Ayano uttered a sigh of relief.

"Oh no! Then what happened?"

"Well, we proved to them that violence wasn't the answer and we led them to the path of righteousness, but as a result, I have a very _very _ugly face, and quite frankly I don't want to scar your sweet, innocent eyes with my beaten up head. So that's what the bag is for."

"That's horrible! I hope you get better soon!" Tears began to well up in the girl's eyes; she really was quite touched by the story, regardless of the fact that it was entirely fake.

Rue seethed in the background. Ayano's improvisation and the anonymous fangirl in general made her want to throw up. The sooner the two of them were done with their sugary crap, the better. She originally intended to wait a while, win over the annoying little brats and take their money, but things were taking longer than expected.

"So are you going to buy any cookies or what?" Rue interrupted the ongoing conversation, clearly expressing her need of a sale and the accompanying profit.

Ayano and the girl quickly silenced, as the small blonde turned to look at Rue. She looked quite sympathetic, which was surely a bad sign.

"I'm really sorry. I wish I could spare some money for you, but my cookie guy came by an hour ago and I spent all my money on him."

"Oh. Is that so?" Rue turned her back on the girl. Her face turned a deathly shade of pale, and she was sure she was going to be sick eventually. Her fists clenched into tight balls, her knuckles glowing white. Uncontrollable twitches in her right shoulder were becoming more visible and frequent. She had to go home as soon as possible and beat the living daylights out of something. Perhaps she could stick a photo of Fakir to her pillow, punch and kick it, and throw it against everything in sight until her rage subsided. That seemed nice.

"Let's leave now." She muttered coldly to Ayano. Her partner, to genuinely afraid to do anything, followed her without a single word, and they left the porch.

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Fakir never liked alarm clocks, his or anyone's. In his opinion, they were just at that volume that pushed your eardrums to the point of caving in on themselves. They also has amazing superpowers enabling them to project their piercing morning ring through walls, drawers, boxes and piles of random clothes and household objects positioned solely to block out the noise. Today was another one of those days where Fakir wanted to throw his alarm clock right between the eyes of his Rue dartboard. You see, today was Friday, the all-important day where every ballet student would find out if their efforts in salesmanship were all worth it. One student would be bestowed with a glorious A, and one would have to endure the sheer embarrassment that was dancing with Mr. Cat in public.

Quite frankly, he would much rather be sleeping, although considering the extreme volume of his alarm clock which he hadn't bother to turn off, sleep seemed much like a thing of the past. He removed the pillow from on top of his head as he groaned and slowly lifted himself into a sitting position. He stretched his arms above his head and yawned before sliding out of bed at an incredibly slow rate. Soon after, he dragged himself over to the window and gazed blankly outside. Then, quite different from his previous actions, he stormed over to his alarm clock and threw it at his Rue dartboard, watching the clock's face break open and gears fall all about the ground.

For him, that was soothing, and he hoped something in that nature could happen to the real Rue in the near future.

Fakir sighed and convinced himself if would happen soon enough. Curious as to what the time actually was, he peered over at the cracked fragments of his alarm clock, and realized that perhaps he should get ready for school. Maybe he could beat Rue to class. He just hoped that wasn't the only thing he could win.

**A/N: Who do you want to win the contest? Send a review! xD**

**Hopefully that chapter was to your liking! It's very likely that the next chapter will be the last, although I'm not saying that it is definite. Anyway, thanks again for reading!**


	8. Without Further Ado

**A/N: It's taken me nine months to finally finish this. It's rather sad. But it's done now. It's done! I thank everybody who has decided to read all the way through to end, especially those people who have alerted and waited so long for my updates, because I update really slowly. **

**Thank you also to everybody who has sent me an encouraging review. They have inspired me to stop being lazy and finish this story. **

**Disclaimer: I do not own Princess Tutu**

**~ Chapter Eight – Without Further Ado~**

As much as Fakir had yearned to arrive to class early, it turned out the hour he felt he spent glaring hazily at his alarm clock had actually happened. During instances when he was not under the public eye, he sprinted to school, heaving his heavy bag filled with useless textbooks for subjects he detested. However, as soon as someone took notice of him, or more rather, he _thought_ he saw someone take notice of his presence, his sprint would immediately halt into a brisk walk until he had concealed himself behind a building of sorts.

Some might find his behaviour to be slightly strange, but Fakir had his reasons for not running in public. On one occasion the previous summer, he earned a small amount of pocket money looking after two small children living in his street. Normally, the two girls aged six and eight were no problems to look after, but when they thought they saw Hannah Montana in the street, they uttered piercing squeals of joy and ran after her without hesitation. Fakir's only option was to run after them; after all, if they got assaulted, abducted or hit by a car, he would be the one being sued.

Long story short, as he was chasing the children up the main streets of Kinkan a minivan of elderly women in a knitting club slowly drove past. As it did, many of them had their faces pressed up against the windows, staring intently. One woman was even game enough to scream an obscene comment regarding what her intentions would have been if only she were fifty years younger. Fakir was so scarred by this experience he developed his insecurity of public running.

He arrived half an hour late for his first class. Sure, he was a little embarrassed, but that soon turned to hope and/or triumph when he realized Rue wasn't to be seen.

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Rue power-walked home the previous afternoon and had not left the comfort of her room except for meals and bathroom breaks. Upon arrival at home, she immediately began surfing the internet for any photo she could find of Fakir. This was so she could print it out, sticky tape it to her pillow, and beat it senseless. Lillie's MySpace page had a substantial amount, which initially had Rue puzzled. This was until she realized that Lillie's constant spy antics meant she was bound to have photos of everyone.

It was about 4am and Rue had finally grown tired of punching the pillow with all her might. The picture of Fakir's stunned face was already ripped into eight or so pieces therefore satisfaction was already obtained. As her attacks ceased, her mind once again filled with worries concerning the following morning. Her 'mild stumble' the previous afternoon may have cost her the title of cookie selling queen. Were her efforts at all futile? She could only imagine what might happen, and so Rue began to slumber.

Technically, she did not wake up on Friday morning.

She woke up on Friday afternoon. Ten past twelve to be exact. Upon realizing the time, Rue felt an unimaginably large urge to scream. So she did. Thankfully, everyone in her residence was either already awake or better yet, out of the house, so her shrill squeal proved to be of little annoyance to those around her. She quickly dressed, did her hair and make-up, and shoved a banana down her throat before beginning her run to school. Hopefully, considering her reputation at school as the generally wonderful girl with perfect attendance, Mr. Cat would let her lateness slide, possibly even without any marriage threats. Rue paused in her thoughts; no marriage threats? That was highly unlikely.

The time was 12.45pm and the main doors of the ballet studio flew open. In walked Rue, nowhere near as gracefully as she would on a normal school day. She was slouched over with her hands on her knees, puffing and panting, having run the entire distance from her house to school. As soon as she arrived, the atmosphere of the studio spontaneously changed to suit that of a classic Western movie. Rue stumbled through the main doors and locked eyes with Fakir, who was standing confidently at the opposite side of the studio. Immediately, the rest of the class ceased engaging in their ballet-based activities, forming a quiet huddle of nosy spectators.

There was a solid row of students along two of the room's main walls, as they were involved in exercises on the barre at the time of Rue's entrance. The gazes of twenty odd beginner class students, Ahiru included, flew quickly between the two students involved in what seemed to be a standoff.

"Fakir" Rue made her best effort to sound as confident and alert as possible, despite her posture and general appearance which clearly stated otherwise.

"Rue" he replied curtly in turn. It seemed best to keep conversation short, considering their current circumstances.

"It's Friday." Rue also thought this way.

"Well, what do you know? It is too."

Mytho watched nervously from the crowd. He glanced around him and noticed that many other students were anticipating a punch-up, or a vocal screaming match at the very least. He never regarded himself as being one who was greatly opposed to random bouts of violence, but neither of these things were in Mytho's best interest. A fight to the death involving his close friend and the girl he sort of liked meant there was definitely no upside for him. He yearned for a distraction, something to get the two of them away from each other. A fire alarm would be perfect! Then again, looking back at his past experiences involving fire alarms, perhaps that was not the best idea.

He was rather surprised that it was none other than Mr. Cat who stepped in and caused all of his previous worries to dissolve. The teacher strolled towards the entrance doors where Rue had not moved very far forward, and swiftly directed her away to the other side of the room, without one hint of a scolding. As she was considerably late for class, Mr. Cat felt it was necessary to go over what was learned in the previous few hours in which Rue was absent. Not that it really mattered, as she would probably be instructing others on the same set of steps within mere minutes.

Fakir was rather annoyed at Mr. Cats biased act of kindness. Sure, he was only half an hour or so late, but when he thought about how much he had missed in that amount of time… he wouldn't have minded a little 'heads up' about what happened…

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_The studio entrance doors flew open at breakneck speed as Fakir bolted through. He didn't think he was that late for class, but as he realized he was half an hour late, he decided the world didn't like him very much. As he entered the studio, all eyes fell on him, including those of Mr. Cat. The sudden rush of attention caused Fakir to slow down to an eventual halt._

_He sighed. "Sorry I'm late, Mr. Cat. It's because I-"_

"_FAKIR!" The teacher was obviously not in his best mood "I will not have anyone arriving late for class! You are supposed to be a role model for the other students! Show up late for class again and I will have you ma-" Mr. Cat immediately brought his hand … paw?... to his face, which was turning a violent shade of burgundy. His eyes widened as he inhaled intensely, realizing what he was about to say._

_While the rest of the class was in hysterical laughter, Fakir remained still, squinting at his teacher in moderate disgust. "Excuse me? I believe we've been through this."_

Mr. Cat sighed. "Get to the barre, Fakir"

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Yeah, a little catch-up knowledge or even a simple "Hello, Fakir. I acknowledge your presence" would have sufficed. He sighed, glancing to the clock positioned conveniently in his path of sight. There was not long to go until the end of the lesson, which was good yet also bad. The upside of the lesson ending was that he would be free of Mr. Cat, and in turn Rue, for a weekend of pure bliss. However, it being Friday, he would have to endure the waste of time and air that was the presentation of the special class routine.

Oh, and the competition. He was obviously anxious to see how that turned out.

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The next half hour flew by in what seemed like an instant. However, what actually happened was that the reader's wishes for this story to hurry up and end resulted in a glitch in the time space continuum. It was not a thing that could be physically felt by any of the characters; to them it felt as if they had just done one extremely long plie, and after they had risen and realized a whole thirty minutes passed, many were surprised at the strength of their thigh and stomach muscles.

"Oh my gosh! Look! It's three o'clock! "chirped an anonymous student from the back of the class. Many other students, Fakir included were easily able to believe the girl's spontaneous comment as not being true. However, after looking up at the clock they were pleasantly proved otherwise. They then continued their lesson as they would on any other Friday afternoon, by sitting on the floor and preparing to observe the 'special' class prance about and make the others squirm.

Ahiru secured herself a seat towards the back of the group. Being too close to Mr Cat often gave her suspicious vibes, and she had become accustomed to using this time to daydream. She looked around the room, noticing a pair of brightly coloured birds flying around the windows. Not far away from the window was Mr Cat, briskly searching through draws for his remote control, with which he would enable the leader board to de-escalate. It was easy to tell who was the most involved in the competition; most of the students couldn't care less and were talking amongst themselves, whereas both Fakir and Rue viewed the board as if there was nothing more important in the world.

There were rips in the flamingo pink background, and a significant area of pink feather edging missing. As Fakir scanned the board, he could not help but wonder why on earth Mr. Cat chose such an appalling colour for the design. He came to the conclusion that cats were most likely colourblind, although he didn't know for certain. His eyes then rushing to the top name, he was honestly surprised at what he saw.

_Pique __– 116_

After staring at the unexpected name for a few seconds, it was decided that her constant hard work was certainly a contributing factor to her eventual success. Still, Fakir was shocked at the fact that a mere side character was able to beat him, Rue and all of the other main characters in a competition that was essential to the entire plot of the story. After realizing she was only a side character, he dismissed any further thoughts of Pique, scanning the board for his name, and also Rue's. He did not have to look far. Directly under the name of the winner was one of the names for which he was searching.

_Fakir – 104_

_Rue – 101_

Fakir let out a gigantic sigh, a mixture of relief and accomplishment, before turning to lock eyes with Rue. He wanted to see her disgruntled facial expression, the steam emit from her ears, and the jealousy evident in her stare. When Rue went to glare at Fakir, she was greeted with a smug, out-of-character look of pride. Rue had finally been knocked from her podium, and so Fakir could not help but smirk; It was enjoyable being there to witness the first moment in the time he had known her that she had not had the rules bent in order to meet her demands. His eyes then fell towards the bottom of the notice board and he could not help but chuckle at the thought of Lillie and Mr. Cat performing bubblegum pop together in front of the entire academy. 'Barbie Girl' began to play in his head, eventually turning into a remix with a rap added in, before he realized he was thinking a little too much.

The mind-draining special class performance was thankfully smaller than normal, due solely to the presentation of results and the chatter afterwards that was somewhat difficult to hush. As the dismissal bell rang, the class left the studio for the weekend and scattered in various directions. Ahiru, Mytho and Fakir began walking in one direction, and Rue and her followers began to journey home in the opposite direction, appearing to have put the entire competition behind them; after all in the end the school had new curtains for their stage. Whilst receiving a number of compliments and congratulations, Fakir could not help but wonder how much time would need to pass before Rue skyrockets to the top of the dance class food chain and anyone else's previous achievements were otherwise ignored. It did not matter too much; he had enough motivation to get through the following days, that was, until the next opportunity for competition arose…

**The End**


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